Chapter 2

233 45 26
                                    

As Beatrice slowly glided through the passage of the old Rivera mansion, the resounding click of her heels felt like another nail in her coffin. When she passed the portraits of her ancestors, she couldn't help but think they were all watching and judging her the way her parents had done all her life.

She felt sick. With every step she took, she was brought closer to the man she was expected to spend the rest of her life with.

Most people would have expected her to be happy she was getting married to a man she had known all her life. The only thing Beatrice felt when she pictured her fiancé forcing a ring down her finger was fear.

She shivered as she approached the staircase that led to the grand hall.

The silver and gold lights in the hall showed off the exotic aristocratic décor Leila had strived to achieve for years. Beatrice could remember how her mother had kept renovating the house for two decades until she'd finally got what she wanted.

She inhaled the sweet scent of freshly baked bread. Her stomach growled angrily in response.

"Hey! It's not my fault mother's kept me on this bloody diet." Beatrice said to her stomach.

She wondered if she could sneak a mouthful of delicious food without Leila catching her. She was sick and tired of hearing how she needed to be in good shape to fit into some bloody Italian designer's wedding dress.

Heaven forbid that she appeared fat in the pre-wedding pictures. Leila would somehow find a way to punish her for it. She was already walking on thin ice.

She stood, watching the well-dressed servers pour wine into empty glasses and offer hors d'oeuvres to the numerous guests. Though everything looked and smelt delicious, Beatrice's appetite disappeared instantly.

Everyone seemed to be laughing and having a great time, but Beatrice knew better. She could see through their plastic smiles. Even though she was too far away to understand what they were saying, she knew their seemingly sweet words were laced with lots of poison. She hated them all.

Many of them had come to confirm if the legendary Beatrice Rivera was truly engaged to be married to Thomas, the heir to the Lorenzo Empire. The two families had kept it a secret for years until the alliance had been well established.

There were so many of them. She wished she could escape. She would have given anything to be anywhere but there. She gripped the balustrade, trying to steady herself. She swallowed twice, trying to eliminate the vile taste of vomit in her mouth.

As she stood at the top of the stairs, she watched the party almost like she was an actress waiting for a cue for her to join a scene.

In a matter of seconds, the laughter and low rumble of conversation died down. Soon, heads began to turn in her direction. There was not a single person in the room whose eyes were not on Beatrice Rivera, judging and accessing her worth.

They watched her glide gracefully down the stairs, her lush skin shimmering beautifully under the bright gold and silver lights. Her red lips were drawn in a seductive, confident smirk. Her beautiful dark eyes flashed brilliantly like their attention amused her.

She took her time, gently grazing her slender fingers on the balustrade as she made her way into the party. She was the queen of the ball and was doing her best to make sure everyone was well aware of that fact.

When Beatrice got to the end of the escalier, she was met by a handsome man with greying hair. His pearl white teeth spectacularly adorned his dark skin. They had the same almond-shaped brown eyes but that was where the physical resemblance ended.

Imprisoned by secretsWhere stories live. Discover now